


Red

by two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat



Series: Bailor's Femslash February 2021 [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash February, Hurt No Comfort, Pining, Princess Prom (She-Ra), Red - Freeform, Wordcount: 500-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29146818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat/pseuds/two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat
Summary: It’s funny. Color theory probably dictates that Catra would be the one in the lead. In charge. Force Captain. Doesn’t this place match her aesthetic? Catra’s mismatched eyes, prowling walk, exceptional posture. She fits in with this place much better than Shadow Weaver’s golden child. Hell, Catra even wears the uniform better. Red’s a good color on her. Adora, on the other hand, can barely pull it off.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Bailor's Femslash February 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139363
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18
Collections: Femslash February





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like it's important to point out that this is written from Catra's POV and she's... really negative towards both Adora and Scorpia, because Season 1 Catra after Adora leaves is pretty angry and negative. There's a general tone of negativity and upset throughout the fic which is meant to be reminiscent of how Catra is pushing her feelings down in order to keep a clear head and get her job to Hordak done.

Adora’s skin is washed out by the red Horde uniforms they have to wear around everywhere, and Catra wonders how this is the first time she’s noticed it, sitting here on the rooftop as the moons rise. The Force Captain badge does her a little good - brings out her eyes, in their odd, grey way. Catra’s never really thought about it, before. Why should she? It’s not like there’s ever been another option. It’s just them, their force squadron, and the Horde. The dark hallways, flickering lights, training drills, locker rooms, and thousands upon thousands of places to run through, hide in,  _ explore.  _ Their outfits mean nothing. They’re part of the group, part of the club. Part of  _ something,  _ even if Catra sometimes feels that she’s not quite as ‘in’ as Adora is. 

It’s funny. Color theory probably dictates that  _ Catra  _ would be the one in the lead. In charge.  _ Force Captain.  _ Doesn’t this place match her aesthetic? Catra’s mismatched eyes, prowling walk, exceptional posture. She fits in with this place much better than Shadow Weaver’s golden child. Hell, Catra even wears the  _ uniform  _ better. Red’s a good color on her. Adora, on the other hand, can barely pull it off. 

(That’s how color theory works, right? Catra doesn’t really know. It’s something that would probably be Kyle’s department, and why would she ever want to talk to him?)

* * *

Catra doesn’t understand why this is happening. Why they’re in the woods, why Adora’s disappeared, why Catra has to be alone, alone alone alone alone  _ again  _ like she always is when Adora leaves her for something better, for something that’s bright and golden and  _ glowing _ like she is, for a goddamn sword and a flash of light and then  _ nothing,  _ just Catra alone on the floor of a forest that wants her dead. She takes a moment to note before getting up off the ground that all the pink  _ really  _ clashes with her fur. 

God damn princesses. 

It’s almost fitting when Catra sees Adora in that gastly, glowing,  _ golden  _ dress-and-cape-and-sword getup she finds herself wearing when she leaves her for the Princesses. It’s gaudy and too much, sure. But there’s something for Adora in that outfit, something that Catra’s messed up fashion sense can’t quite discern, but makes her stomach do flips, anyway. The gold and blue accents, the glitter, the freaking  _ lightshow…  _ it’s a lot to take in. 

But it matches her complexion better. Just a little bit. 

(Not that Catra would never admit it)

Catra almost takes the time to wonder how this is the first time she’s ever noticed this. Noticed  _ Adora  _ like this, all gold and white and blue, brilliant… brilliantly  _ annoying,  _ she reminders herself. Adora’s dead to her. Pretty, yes, but  _ dead.  _

She chose her side. 

Catra gets to keep the fluorescent green Force Captain badge, all for herself. 

She only gets a brief look in the mirror before she has to report for duty, but she notices in those last few seconds that it brings out her eyes. 

* * *

Catra doesn’t go to Force Captain training. She never got the memo. 

She got  _ Scorpia _ instead.

(Scorpia, who looks  _ dashing  _ in red.)

(Figures.)

Scorpia, who’s annoying and clingy and talks all the time no matter  _ what  _ Catra says to her. Scorpia, who tells Catra that there’s ball, a  _ Princess  _ ball. And Adora might be there. 

Turns out, Scorpia looks dashing in a ballgown, too. 

Catra can pull off the suit. Hell, she more than pulls it off. She looks freaking  _ stunning _ . And she tells herself she’s not doing it for any reason other than reconnaissance, any reason other than to fit in at the ball, any reason other than to pull traitorous Princess-following scum into a dance, sweep them off their feet… and, well. She is  _ certainly  _ not wearing this suit just so she can stun Adora. Remind her what she’s missing. 

The ball is everything Catra expected it would be. Elegant. Dreadful. Positively boring, however crucial it seemed at the time of her scheming, making sure this plan was airtight, perfect, absolutely unbreakable. And she meets Entrapta - a nice break from the red of Scorpia’s and Adora’s dresses, clashing together even when they should fit, even though the shades are  _ just close enough…  _

She and Adora dance under the palace’s blue light, crystalline beams that refract the colors everywhere. Catra tries to damper her smirk, keep the mask of professionalism on, but she can’t help herself. She didn’t  _ want  _ to stun Adora, she swears. But the fact that Adora looks sufficiently stunned… it’s a nice bonus. Adora’s wearing that stupid red gown that does  _ nothing  _ for her figure. Catra resists the urge to lean in, whisper in Adora’s ear that she looks better in white and gold. Catra resists the urge to remind her that this shade of red is just a wash or two away from lightening to her old Horde uniform. That Adora’s still with them.  _ With her.  _ In this lighting, everything’s mottled and blurring together. Reds and blues and blacks and golds. 

The music swells and Catra dips her, leaning in just a little too close. 

She tries not to think about why. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3


End file.
